Chainsaw, White Noise, and Stiletto Heels
by PurplePoctopus
Summary: When Bela Talbot shows up at the house of Bobby Singer, Dean is left in charge of her capture and interrogation. But, what happens when Bobby decides that chopping wood is more important than the thief working for a certain king of Hell? Dean/Bela


"Do you really want to do that?"

_Son of a bitch_ he thinks. _Why if it isn't…_

"Backstabbing fucking bitch Bela Talbot." He says as she pins her gun to his forehead.

"Live, and in concert." She smirks, then makes a disappointed face. "That's no way to talk to a lady, Dean." Dean frowns, his face twisting into a pained snarl. She had it him a few times, _hard_. Purple and green bruises were already starting to form where she kicked him in the chest. If she didn't have him pinned against the wall, he's be rolling up his tee shirt to inspect the damage. There were probably marks from her stiletto heels, with a possible cracked rib. Bitch was tough.

"Lady? That's funny. I think you lost that term when you whored around with demons, gave them the Colt, sent me to Hell and started the damn _apocalypse_!" Bela, angered by Dean's words, swiftly knees him in the crotch. He reels backwards in pain, hitting his head on the wall in a comical display of physical mastery.

"I didn't know what they were planning. I trusted Crowley… Just like Sammy trusted his demon slut. What was her name? Rub-"

"Don't talk about her like that." Sam is now behind her, his gun to the back of her head.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I would have thought you'd be over here by now."

"Drop your gun, Bela." Sam says with a lip curled in anger.

"I will when you do, Moose." Sam rolls his eyes at Crowley's nickname for him; obviously she had been spending more time with him than she'd been saying… And, if she weren't with Crowley, she wouldn't be there.

"What do you need with the book, Bela?" She drops her gun, not wanting to talk to Sam any longer. He does the same, and she goes to sit on the couch. Dean comes off the wall, and tugs the bottom of his shirt up. Sure enough, there were several round, pointed marks that were darker than all of the other bruises on his ribcage; some even drew blood. _That bitch._

"Yeah, Bela. What do you want with Purgatory?" Dean remarks. He grabs the book off of Bobby's desk while Sam leaves to get painkillers or booze, or Castiel, or a chick flick. Dean wouldn't put it past him.

"Purgatory? I don't know what you're talking about. All I know is that that book is very valuable, and I have a buyer that wants his hands on it. I heard you had a dragon sword too. I'd like that in the bag with the book, thanks." Bela crosses her legs and smirks at Dean, who is not amused by the woman's antics. Did she really expect to play Dean like a game of cards?

"Who's your client? Is he British with a name that rhymes with…" Dean pauses. "Well, I can't think of anything witty to rhyme it with other than _Blow me_, but I didn't want to give you any ideas." He pulls his shirt off, still poking at his wounds like a sick dog, before sitting down on the other side of the couch.

"Like I'd do anything of the sort with you." She laughs at his proposition, not completely appalled like she thought she would be. But, the fact that he even brought it up was hysterical to her. "I wouldn't stoop so low."

"You were the one that suggested it, bitch." Dean growls back. He did not appreciate being insulted by Bela _fucking_ Talbot.

"Language, Dean. I did no such thing. You were the one that started shouting obscenities at me." The door opens, most likely Bobby or Sam passing through. Bela and Dean don't even look up. Both have their arms crossed and are staring at the ground.

"Fucking children…" It's Bobby. "Don't just sit there, ya idjit! Tie the bitch up!"

"Kinky. You remembering Flagstaff, Bobby?" Bela retorts as Bobby hands ropes to Dean.

"For the record…. You did suggest it first. Massachusetts, the ghost ship? We were in that party and you said…."

"After this, we should really have…"

"Angry sex. And I said, _Don't objectify me_." Dean is reminiscing about that day all those years ago, when the woman that he was tying up screwed him so hard that it made his head spin. His lips curl into a smile at his analogy, throwing a quick _That's what she said_ at the end of it. "So, yeah. You did start this." He finishes the last restraining knot with an ostentatious flourish, tugging at it to make sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"That was years ago. Coupon expired." Bela struggles against the ropes, they're cutting into her skin and leaving rough, twisted bruises on her wrists. "You like tying me up, Dean?"

"Shut up, bitch. You're not going anywhere." He pulls a chair across from her and turns it backwards before straddling across the seat. He rests his elbow on the back of the chest, and leans his head against his hand. Bela rolls her eyes at him, and he returns a cocky smile to her. _Get me out of here… Dean Winchester… Go to Hell, again._

"Is there a point to keeping me here like this?" if she could, she'd be crossing her arms in discontent.

"Yeah, actually. We're not fucking _morons_, Bela." Dean switches his head to his other hand after feeling the light prickles of it falling asleep, but keeps his eyes dead-set on Bela. She wasn't going to pull the wool over their eyes again. "We know you're working for Crowley. No one else wants to find Purgatory." Bela struggles against her bindings again, but they were too tight. Dean wouldn't be sloppy, unlike Sam. She was stuck. Trapped. At the mercy of one Dean Winchester.

"That's where you're wrong, Dean. Every demon in Hell is in the Purgatory Easter Egg hunt." Bela laughs at Dean's confused expression due to his misinformation- _it's absolutely comical._

"You're lying. Bitch, why are you working for him? Why are you slutting around with the King of Hell?" Dean shifts in the chair with an irate expression in his eyes. He was pissed. Though, he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was because she was being a sneaky little bitch again. Maybe it was because he was upset about her underworld affiliations. Perhaps it was because he couldn't help but think dirty thoughts about her tied to the chair like that. Her skimpy skirt was rolled up a bit, exposing a nice chunk of her creamy thighs, even flashing a bit of black panty. _No. Dean. Stop. She's a bitch. She sent you to Hell._ His tongue darts out of his mouth subconsciously, wetting his lips while thinking of the beautiful, vulnerable woman in front of him.

"Again with the language, Dean. Dear John never taught you how to speak to women, did he? You're a barbarian." She pauses and looks at Dean, who has a glazed-over look to his eyes, as if he's deep in lustful thought. Truthfully, he _was_ undressing her with his eyes. "Don't objectify me!"

"Shut up about my dad." He gets up and walks over to the restrained Bela, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes as he places a rough, yet gentle hand on her thigh. "I'll objectify you all I want, sweetheart." He whispers the last word into her ear before laying a light kiss on the curve of her jawbone.

"You going to untie me, Winchester?" Bela asks, completely unfazed by Dean's advances. Truthfully, she wanted him too. She wanted him to kiss and feel and caress her. Above all, she wanted him inside her.

But, she wasn't about to let him know that. Lusting after someone was a show of weakness. Loving that person showed even more weakness. Not that she even believed that love existed, but even to say it was bad enough. And, Crowley would be furious. Guts on the floor, liver as dog food furious. You didn't mess with Crowley. Still. What the lovely Rex Compitorum didn't know surely wouldn't hurt him, right?

"Maybe." Dean stops as if to think. _Though, that wouldn't happen_. "Not yet. I'm going to have some fun, first." Dean smirks at the unamused Bela as he slides his hand up her skirt. His fingers graze against the lacey material of her panties, which makes Bela squirm.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean…" Bela laughs lightly as Dean gets closer.

"Sweetheart…" He cups her jaw in his free hand and rubs her cheek with his thumb. With his other hand, he slides his thumb between her legs, and rubs her clit through her panties, eliciting a smirk and a soft moan from Bela. "I suggest you shut up… Let me do the talking." The TV goes on in the kitchen. Jeopardy. It was Sam- Sam could hear everything going on. _You dirty pervert, Sammy._ Dean keeps his expression flat, before crushing Bela's lips to his own in an animalistic kiss. He parts her lips with his tongue, and slips it into her mouth, while still rubbing between her legs.

"Doesn't seem to be much talking…" Bela growls after Dean breaks the kiss, choosing instead to leave open-mouthed kisses on her neck. "More like you getting your sexual frustration ou-" he pushes a finger inside her, and begins to thrust into her wet folds. Bela groans as Dean's fingers enter her, his hands are rough and calloused, but surprisingly gentle.

"I said shut up." He kisses her again, running his free hand through her hair. Again, he pulls away, leaving Bela breathless. The TV is off, Sam must have gone upstairs when he realized what Dean and Bela were doing. He knows he'll get the scolding of a lifetime from Bobby, _"You best not be fuckin' under my roof, boy."_ He hears Bobby's voice echo in his head, but he decides to ignore it, and chuckles instead. "What does Crowley want with Purgatory, Darling? More importantly, what do you want with Crowley?" Before Bela can answer, Dean begins to rub harder. He wants to hear her moans before her answer. He quickly gets what he wishes.

"Don't… call me _Darling._" Dean slides his fingers out, figuring it'll torture Bela. Make her answer. "I don't think Crowley's affairs are any of your business, Dean." A police siren can be heard outside. Bela wonders what the occasion was, but doesn't say anything. Dean smirks and straddles himself on the captive Bela's lap.

"They're plenty of my business, Bela." He slips his hands back into her panties and resumes his actions. A moan escapes Bela's lips, and Dean presses closer. She can feel his erection through his jeans on her abdomen; he was enjoying this as much as she was. "Now, you can tell me, and we'll finish this up the right way, or you could keep you mouth shut, and you'll sit here all night… just wondering…" He leans back in and whispers along her neck, "What it'd be like to have Dean Winchester…"

"It's about the souls!" She moans as Dean rubs furiously. The pressure was building up, she was getting close to the edge. _Damnit, Dean._ "Crowley wants the souls."

"Souls?" Dean removes his hand and begins untying her. "What does he want with the souls?"

"Souls…" She swallows loudly, incredibly frustrated that Dean stopped right before she was going to orgasm, and sighs. "Have incredible power. The more souls you use, the more power you ha-" She's cut off by Dean finishing untying her, and picking her up to go to the bedroom. _Screw Bobby._ He carries her into the room and drops her on the bed, wasting no time climbing on top of her and kissing her furiously. She quickly gains the advantage, flipping him over and straddling over his lap, making sure she is positioned right over Dean's crotch. She quickly rips off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Her own soon follows, along with Dean's jeans and boxers. She wanted this done on her terms.

"Son of a bitch, Bela." Dean cries out as she wraps her hand around his dick and begins to stroke it. This time, she's going to be the one to tease _him_. She's about to take him into her mouth when he grabs her and pushes her down. As much as Dean wanted her to suck his dick, there's no chance in Hell that he'd let her be in control. He tugs her skirt off, taking the panties with it, and presses two kisses to her inner thighs. Left, right… A chainsaw can be heard from outside. Bobby's attempt to block out the sounds of their moans.

"Dean, Dean…"

"Just shut _up_ already!" He slams two fingers inside of her and kisses her furiously, as if the world will end if he doesn't shove his tongue down her throat. "You never fucking shut up." He slides another finger inside of her, then removes them, bringing his lips down between her legs. He goes to slide his tongue into her opening, but fakes out, and in a quick, swift motion, he shifts and slides his cock between her legs, causing her to gasp out and wrap her legs around his waist.

"Tease." She pants as he thrusts into her, shutting her up by pressing his lips to hers. He breaks the kiss and moans into her ear, then lays a trail of kisses down her jawbone and neck. With every thrust, she's developed her own counterthrust, both pulsing in rhythm with each other. Dean's leaving large purple hickeys all over her neck, and Bela, scratches and claw marks along his back. They're twisted together like a pretzel, both struggling to make it to the top.

Bela comes first, tangling her fingers in Dean's hair and pressing his lips to hers so she can moan into his mouth; Dean reaching his own orgasm a few minutes later. He slides out of her and rolls onto his back next to her, pulling her close with his right arm. Bela's breathless, but moves closer to feel the warmth radiating off of Dean's skin. She's not thinking about how she'll have to sneak out to prevent Bobby and Sam from finding out about her and Dean, nor is she thinking about the temper tantrum from Crowley that she's going to have to deal with when she got back. Her mind's at ease, just concentrating on Dean's breathing, the sweet smile on his face, the way the sunlight peeking through the blinds makes his green eyes look even more beautiful…

Dean brushes a lock of hair out of her face, then kisses her forehead. Maybe she should work for him, instead of Crowley. She's always wanted to be a sexy double agent; and she'd trade ten nights with Crowley for another one with Dean. This is where she belongs- Wrapped in Dean's arms and working against Crowley. She'd been working for the son of a bitch for too long, and she felt like she owed Dean. After all, it had been her fault that he went to Hell.

"Dean? Dean? You in there?" Sam's pounding on the door. Bela wonders how long he's been there, then panics and goes to collect her clothes. Dean does the same, and Bela ducks out the window, leaving a letter on the nightstand with her plan and contact information. When she makes it out of the house, she runs into Bobby, who rolls his eyes at her and pulls out his pistol, giving her the old "You have five minutes to get off of my property" which she promptly obeys.

Dean will be calling back soon enough anyway.


End file.
